I pour us each a coffee, and we catch up on the plot twist that was my wedding day and life in general. Natalia is a good friend, and I’m grateful to have her here, even if it’s only for a few hours.
Do you think you could be happy with Angelo?she asks me unexpectedly.Alessio told me you two have history, but he didn’t elaborate. I don’t want to pry…It’s just, I worry about you.
I can’t tell her that, in another lifetime, if things had been different, there would be no question about it. So instead, I force a smile and repeat the same thing I keep telling myself.
Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.
I’m sure it will.She considers me.But in the meantime, I’m here for you whenever you need a friend.
Thank you. I appreciate that more than you know.
We finish our breakfast and retreat to the lounge, flopping back on the extra-large cushions and enjoying the sun. Before long, I start to doze off again, and Natalia wakes me with an apologetic expression.
I’m sorry, but it’s almost time for us to go. I should help get the kids ready.
It’s okay.I nod.I should probably go find Angelo.I haven’t seen him today.
They’re in the office,she says.
I rise from my cushion to give her a hug before she leaves.Dinner when I get back home?
Definitely,she agrees.I’ll be looking forward to it.
On my wayto the lower deck, I bump into Alessio on the landing just as he’s coming up the stairs.
“Abella.” He nods at me. “Congratulations on your nuptials.”
“Thank you.” I offer him a genuine smile. I’ve always liked Alessio, even knowing there’s something very dark in him. Regardless, seeing how happy he makes Natalia, I like him even more.
He’s about to pass me by when I stop him. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can always ask.” He leaves the rest unsaid.It doesn’t mean he’ll always answer.
I glance down the stairs, wondering if I’m about to kick the hornet’s nest. “Angelo said something to me last night, and I’m trying to make sense of it.”
“That sounds like a question for him,” Alessio answers wryly.
I choose to ignore that very legitimate point. “He said I wanted him in prison.”
Alessio considers me for a moment, as if he’s trying to get a read on me. “Well, did you?”
“Do you seriously believe I’d do that?” The hurt filters through my words.
“Do I believe it?” he echoes. “No. But I’m not the one who matters, am I?”
“Why would he think that?” I press.
“Probably because Matteo was the one who put him there, and you’re guilty by association. You did dump him for his brother, in case you forgot.”
Ignoring the jab I’m never going to live down—rightfully so—I focus on the other thing he said. “Matteo didn’t put Angelo in prison.”
“Except he did,” Alessio argues. “I saw the evidence myself. I even spoke to the men who helped him set it up.”
“No.” Something twists in my gut. “You’re wrong.”
“I’m not wrong, Abella.” Alessio softens his tone. “And neither was the Tribunal when they sanctioned Matteo’s death. You know they wouldn’t do that lightly.”
What he’s telling me doesn’t make sense. Matteo loved Angelo. He would have died for him, or even taken his place in that prison cell if he could. He told me that many times. For years, he worked tirelessly to find the men who set Angelo up.
